The Order Endures
by thehexian
Summary: There was once a prophecy, a prophecy that sparked the era of the Golden Trio. Three young Hogwarts students strove to defeat the greatest dark wizard the world had seen in an age. They did not succeed, and their lives were lost. This prophecy stated that a certain wizard on a certain day born to certain circumstances would rise to defeat Lord Voldemort. They had the wrong wizard.
1. Chapter 1 - The House Behind the Pub

_Survivors of the Long War have united, ever stronger and increasingly vigilant.  
The Dark Lord will perish, and those who died standing in his way will be avenged.  
The fallen are remembered, and the Order endures.  
-Author Unknown_

It was nearly two o'clock in the morning in the magical village of Hogsmeade. Christmas was fast approaching, and the air was electric with anxiety. This was not due to the impending holiday, but rather the impending sense of doom. The Death Eaters had been wreaking havoc all over London, and Hogsmeade knew their time was coming. Flakes of snow floated toward the ground, peacefully landing on those flakes which fell before them. All around the street and sidewalks were tiny paw prints of animals scurrying about, the only things which disturbed the fresh coat of snow. Lanterns flickered in the slight breeze, casting their glow onto the nearby shops. They lit up the pathways for any passerby, though nobody was out and about at the early hours of the morning, especially in those dark times. The village was asleep in their homes, not knowing what the next day would bring. With all the things one read in the paper around that time, nobody wanted to be outside at night. People went missing, were found dead in the streets, or were badly injured, and nobody in Hogsmeade risked leaving their houses. Nobody, that is, except the strange people who lived in the little house behind the Hogs Head Pub.

The house had gone up very quickly following the Battle at Hogwarts the previous June. The villagers disliked the house immediately, calling it bad news. For the first few weeks, there was a constant stream of traffic in and out of the house. Nobody got a good look at who the people were, though young Jamie Whitaker swore up and down that she saw a motorcycle land there the first night the house appeared. This was complete poppycock, of course, but an innocent child's imagination seemed a silly thing to silence considering the very real dangers that hung around everyday life. All of the children used to love playing "Taunt the House," a game in which they would all see who could get closest to the house. They decided to stop one day when a rather giant, hairy man came out of the house, and ran around to the back yard. The children scattered in many directions, screaming at the top of their lungs, when a loud rumbling emanated from behind the house.

The lights of the house were always on, save this very night. At precisely two o'clock, the windows went dark. Nobody was watching, as they all lay asleep in their beds. The door opened, and a tall figure stepped out onto the landing. The figure was bundled up in a winter cloak and hood, one outstretched hand held out a wand, the tip aglow. The figure seemed to be looking for something. Moments passed, and finally the person turned toward the house and beckoned with the other hand. The door opened once more, and a smaller figure came out of the house. The two people looked like complete opposites. The larger wore all black, and made sure nobody could see their face. The second person wore a bright yellow winter hat, with a colorful puff on the top. She wore a light blue winter coat, and her mittens matched the yellow of her hat. She wore pink snow pants, and light blue boots. Protruding from her hat was a mane of long, blonde hair. Her blue eyes could probably be spotted from Hogwarts.

She walked up to the tall, dark figure, and stopped next to him. She looked around the street, also looking for something, until her eyes met those of the tall person next to her. She did a double take, and then locked her eyes on her companion's face. She put her hands out, and raised her eyebrows, silently asking why she was being stared at.

"What…are you wearing?" The taller person said in a raspy whisper.

She looked down, and then back up. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Luna, we're supposed to be on a covert mission here!"

"So?" She retorted innocently.

"So I look ridiculous next to you."

She giggled as the other person pulled back the hood, revealing himself to anyone who might see them.

"How can you still be so cheerful?" He said, completely exasperated.

She leaned in and gave him a hug, "Isn't there enough sadness in the world, Neville?"

He shook his head, and grabbed her hand. He looked away from her, but only so she wouldn't see him smile. When he looked back at her, his face was sullen once more. They were running late, and it marked the first time a meeting wasn't in their home.

"Go on," he said, putting his hood back up, "get changed, and be quick about it."

As he watched her run back to the house, Neville felt a presence behind him. He readied his wand, and spun quickly, preparing to shout a curse. Instead, he dropped his wand arm and gasped audibly. His eyes grew to the size of Dobby's, and he staggered backwards a few steps. His throat went dry immediately, and he felt a surge of joy he hadn't felt in years. Finally, his mouth caught up to his thoughts, and he spoke.

"You…you're alive?"


	2. Chapter 2 - Bowed, Bent, and Broken

"I am a little harder to kill than Voldemort expected, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville had destroyed one of Voldemort's horcruxes. He was the head of Dumbledore's Army, and was a forerunner in the Order of the Phoenix. People who mocked him, or who educated him in the past now answered to him. He had been responsible for the deaths of Dolohov, Rodolfus, and several other Death Eaters. He had delved into the Department of Mysteries, and survived the Battle of Hogwarts and his time at Hogwarts before it. Yet somehow, inexplicably, the man who stood before him terrified him to no end.

"There we are, I'm all set now," Luna said quietly as she approached Neville. She was now appropriately covert, in a long black cloak. She wore mittens still, but at least they were black, and her hair was tucked under a black, wool knit cap.

Neville merely grunted in response. He had used all of his courage to put forth the question with an obvious answer, and was rendered speechless once more. His gaze was still wide-eyed, and focused solely on the man before him. Same greasy hair, same crooked nose, same black robes, same superior air, and the same everything else. Why was he still so frightened of the man?

"Hello, professor!" Luna spat forth this salutation as though her father had just arrived on the spot. She reached out her right hand, and her old professor shook it firmly. He didn't smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched a little. Luna grinned brightly in response, and then stepped back.

"Luna, he was dead!" Neville had finally found his voice. "And you're greeting him like he was me!"

"Who says he's not still dead?" Luna spoke with an absurd defiance.

"You just shook his hand, didn't you?" Neville would forever be baffled by this girl, he just knew it.

"I suppose so. Either way, there's no reason to be scared. You're not the same Neville, even if he is the same Snape."

"I do hate to interrupt, but might we get back on track? It's been a long six months, and I'd like to be among peers, rather than pupils." Severus was growing rather impatient, having had quite a long and lonely recovery.

"Just a minute," Luna spoke up, raising her voice just a bit, and causing Neville to shush her. "It's great to see you alive, Professor Snape, but you can't think you can just walk into a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. I mean, you're the enemy."

Professor Snape stood up straighter, seeming to grow several inches, even though it was more like several centimeters. His face tightened, rather in the way McGonagall's did when she grew cross. When he spoke, he seemed to become considerably stronger, and a bit more valiant. "I am not your enemy. I was, and always shall be loyal to the Order and its cause."

"But you were seen," Neville interjected, "seen by Harry. You were talking to him. You were summoned to him!"

"As was Mr. Potter!" Snape practically shouted. He didn't notice Neville's voice crack when Neville spoke Potter's name, nor did Snape see Luna wince when he himself spoke it. "Just because the Dark Lord calls you, doesn't mean you're on his side."

"But professor…" Luna began to interrupt, but Neville halted her by speaking over her.

"We know that you offered to kill Harry yourself. You said you'd do it!" Neville had taken several steps forward, and had jabbed his wand into Snape's sternum.

"Has your foolishness grown, Longbottom? Do you really believe that I could kill Lily Evans' boy? Do you really believe that I will ever stop protecting Potter?" Snape watched as Neville shrunk back, and Neville noticed that Snape pointed, not with a wand, but with his index finger.

Luna, however, spoke next.

"I'm afraid, Professor," her eyes were glistening in the moonlight, what little moonlight there was, "that it's too late to protect Harry."

The strength and energy drained from Severus Snape. The grown man before them seemed to wilt like a neglected flower. He stepped forward, and tried to speak. He opened his mouth, and closed it again. He reached forward, but retracted his hand immediately. When he finally did speak several seconds later, it was with a broken voice.

"Dead?"

"Yes, sir," Neville said with a grim expression. "He didn't survive the battle. He was felled right in front of our eyes."

"Granger?" Snape pleaded, looking at Luna. He turned toward Neville, "and Mr. Weasley?"

"He killed them, too. He killed them, and before we could retaliate, he fled." Neville spoke with a distant look on his face. Physically, he was standing there in the snow with Luna and Snape, but his mind had wandered back to that night. He remembered it all so clearly, and he could still hear their voices. They kept him up at night. His friends would sleep forever.

"We should get moving," Luna said quietly, wrapping her arm around Neville's waist. "Follow us, Professor."

They walked off into the night; bowed, bent and broken.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Weasleys Reunited

For as long as the Burrow had been standing, the atmosphere within the house was always been one of welcome homeliness. There had always been a warm glow emanating from the fireplace, candles throughout the house, or pouring in through the windows. Some form of cooking aroma was always floating in the air, and there was always a commotion. Whether it was clothes knitting themselves, or music pouring out of the radio, or the Weasley children shouting at each other or being shouted at by Molly, the home was always full of activity. The mood within the house that 13th of December, however, did not reflect the days of old. In fact, one would feel much more warm and comfortable outside in the wintry, blistering weather than inside the Burrow. For six months, it had been abandoned. None of the Weasley family could bear to be inside the walls. The family had split, for they reminded each other of the happier times, when their family was whole.

Molly had moved to Shell Cottage to stay with Bill and Fleur, which was a bad idea, as Molly had a special distaste for her daughter-in-law. She kept mentioning how depressing the cottage was for being on the beach, and Fleur wanted to tell her that it was only depressing because Molly made it so, but was silenced by a stern shake of the head from her husband. Molly would walk around, cleaning up behind Fleur, and muttering to herself that she would one day teach "that French girl" how to clean properly. Fleur often found herself wondering what it might be like to go off and live with Arthur and Kreacher at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

For the most part, Arthur hadn't changed. He overworked himself, and had set up Sirius' old room as a place to tinker with Muggle contraptions. He was cheery in the mornings as he took in his breakfast, whistled while he worked, and hummed as he ate dinner. His nights, however, were filled with the screams and explosions of battles long passed. He had slept very little in the previous six months, and had stressed himself to the point of losing all of his hair. He was also becoming nearly as paranoid as Alastor Moody and Horace Slughorn put together. He talked to himself, and worried Kreacher to no end. The house elf had taken to sneaking Pepper-Up Potion into Arthur's morning coffee, courtesy of Winky at Hogwarts.

George kept the joke shop running, though mainly out of respect for Fred. He never appeared in the shop itself, and kept himself locked up in his room above the back store-room. Percy couldn't associate himself with the Ministry, and so he helped George keep the books. He saw to the receiving of new products, and made sure the store didn't go out of business. He regularly kept in contact with the family, and surprisingly served as the glue keeping the clan together. Ginny had moved to Romania with Charlie, and had become rather adept at taming dragons. She was also very good at healing them, as well as the other trainers who would occasionally be mauled by a cranky dragon. A couple of months into her time in Romania, Ginny had written to Hagrid, who now served as the primary caretaker for newborn dragons, until they were ready to be released.

Of the regular meetings that took place in Neville and Luna's house, the Weasley clan had never made an appearance. It was Kreacher who talked them into having the meeting at the Burrow, so the family could re-unite again. He claimed that it was his bitterness that the Blacks never had the chance to reunite that caused him to suggest this meeting, though Arthur believed Kreacher had just become a big softy. Either way, the Weasley's all agreed that they should be more involved. The time for mourning had to come to an end, and their friends and family simply had to be avenged.

On the night this meeting was to take place, the Weasleys were all a right mess. The wrung their hands, paced about their various locations, and delayed as only expert procrastinators could do. Molly was the first to arrive, thanks to some not-so-subtle prodding by Fleur. She showed up around 6 hours early, and was very grateful that she had. The state of the Burrow! It was horrendous! She went straight to work dusting, straightening books, sweeping, and cleaning dishes. When Bill arrived, she sent him to remove the boards from the fireplace and light a nice warm fire. She put together a bit of something to bake while she worked, entirely pleased to be back in the swing of house-wife activity. When Bill came back from getting the firewood, he smiled at the aroma wafting from the kitchen, and cringed as his mother sang to the radio. It almost felt like normal, until he heard a cry from Molly.

Bill ran to her, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw what she was looking at. He felt weak and needed to sit down. Together, the two of them stared at the clock, where Ron and Fred were stuck forever on "lost." They must have been there for over an hour, since it was the smell of burning food that awoke them from their trance. Molly ran off to save dinner, as Bill grabbed a sheet that was hanging over the couch, and covered up the clock. He wasn't quite sure what to do, and was saved from a moment of awkward standing around when his father traipsed in the front door.

"Evening, Weasleys!" He shouted out of pure habit, coming across more cheerful than Bill deemed appropriate.

Bill rushed forward to hug his father just as George and Percy came tumbling out of the fireplace, shouting out in pain, imploring their mother to explain why she would do something so silly as to leave the fireplace lit when company was coming.

"Better put it out before Ginny and Charlie get here," Percy said.

"Better hope Fred doesn't haunt you for this," George said, as he crossed the room to hug Molly.

"Oh, George, it's been too long," Molly said, fighting back tears. "Sorry about the fire. It was just so un-Weasley in here."

"No harm done," Percy said softly, offering his mother a hug of his own.

There was a faint coughing as Ginny arrived, and she quickly asked, "what's burning?"

"Me and Perce," George said, jutting his thumb in Percy's general direction.

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed, "I've managed to keep burning the dinner!"

She scuttled off to save it again as Charlie arrived, and what was left of the Weasley clan all sat around the table, failing not to notice the two empty spots where Fred and Ron would have sat. Molly arrived with the dinner, which was surprisingly good for having been burnt twice.

"Very good, Molly," Arthur said ten minutes later, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Yeah," George proclaimed, "maybe you should have started burning dinner years ago."

"George!" Molly said, playful hitting him over the head with her fork. "Well, best get cleaned up for company. They should be here soon enough."

Molly and Arthur cleared the table, and the children set to moving about the furniture so everyone would fit in the house.


	4. Chapter 4 - The List

"Mum?" Ginny asked, "Who do you recon is left from the Order?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Percy asked, trying and failing not to sound pompous.

"Well, we've been away in Romania, haven't we?" Ginny asked, motioning toward Charlie.

"Well, I've been keeping in touch with them as well as you lot." Percy reached into his pocket and extracted a list. He put on a pair of glasses, and cleared his throat. "There's Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood, they're staying up in Hogsmeade. They have a house behind the Hogs Head Pub, and the meetings have been being held there for the last few months."

"I always knew they'd end up together," Molly said warmly.

"Yeah, they're not together, Mother," Percy said knowingly, "they just share the house."

"Oh." Molly said, disappointedly.

Percy consulted his list, and continued. "McGonagall and Kingsley are pretty much in charge of the Order. Kingsley runs things on the Ministry end, and McGonagall has kept Dumbledore's Army on as an actual class, which is hardly appropriate."

"Now, Percy, she's just trying to help," Arthur said.

"Yes, Percy, she's molding young minds into Harry Potters! Running around and attacking grown evil wizards at the ripe young age of 11!" George replied somewhat dryly. "Did anyone else just cringe when I mentioned his name? Honestly, I have an easier time saying Voldemort."

"THE LIST, PERCY!" Arthur shouted, desperate to stave off awkwardness.

"Thank you, Father," Percy replied. "There's Fleur, Hagrid, Flitwick, and Kreacher. Seamus and Dean are running Dumbledore's Army at Hogwarts, but they should be here tonight. Ah yes, then there's Aberforth, who is of course helping out due to his close proximity to Neville and Luna's place. It's unlikely that he'll be here, though."

"Getting a bit too old?" Molly asked.

"Fat and lazy, actually," Percy replied, rolling up the parchment and stuffing it back in his robe pocket. He looked to the clock, and saw that it was covered. Understanding the reason, he reached for his pocket watch and consulted the time. "It's getting close to that time. They should be arriving shortly."

That was all the talking they would do until the rest of the Order arrived. For the next five minutes, they sat around the living room, each lost in their own thoughts. They were either remembering those they lost, or planning what their next move would be, or in Arthur's case, whether or not the knitting needles were going to fly across the room and attack him. They were unable to look at each other, but it was nice to feel each other's presence. It had been a long six months.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Percy got up to answer the door, and the others were left in the room to fidget in their seats. Percy's voice echoed into the sitting room, causing the Weasleys to turn their heads in his general direction.

"Did he just say Snape?" Molly asked.


	5. Chapter 5 - Just a Snake

Percy was quite positive he was staring at Severus Snape, but something was a bit different about him. He had a strange look to him, at least stranger than he was used to. When Percy would see Snape around school, the latter always seemed to be wearing an expression of complete disgust. He walked about with a grimace, knowing he was better than the students and his position at the school. Percy had only ever seen the professor smile when he was taking points away from Gryffindor, or when he made a first year whimper. It was due to Snape's steadfast dedication to being an absolute prat, that Percy was surprised to see Snape not trying to barge into the house. In fact, it seemed as though he was waiting to be addressed. It was a bit pathetic, actually.

"Hello there, Professor Snape." Percy said curtly, the faintest flicker of humor behind his eyes. "Got a bit bored of death did we?"

"It's alright, Perce," Neville said from behind Snape.

Percy looked past his old potions master, and noticed Neville and Luna for the first time. Luna smiled calmly, and gazed about the Burrow, seemingly perplexed as to how it was still standing. Indeed, the Burrow could well have topped Voldemort's list of places to destroy. Perhaps they would find out why the Death Eaters left the place untouched, though it was quite possible that the disheveled and depressed state of the place was enough of a victory for Voldemort. Molly Weasley had killed Bellatrix Lestrange, but Voldemort had destroyed the Weasleys' happiness. He had ended their way of life, and their spark had faded. Their very hair seemed a less vibrant shade of ginger.

Neville, on the other hand, hadn't taken his eyes off the back of Snape's head. His right hand held his wand, which was pointed at Snape's back, and he held the man's wand in his left. As he spoke to Percy, his voice was dry and harsh. Neville had always spoken with such conviction and passion in the aftermath of his friends' deaths, and meetings at his house in Hogsmeade Village were always full of anger and words of revenge. He had a hatred for Voldemort which spewed forth like fire from a newly placed log, where others' voices had fallen flat in a state of bewildered depression. Yet now as he spoke, he seemed just as lost as they all had been. Truly, Snape's sudden reappearance six months after he was seen being killed was causing Neville to question whether his own existence was possible.

"Can we come in?" Luna asked politely. "Bit nippy out here."

Neville and Luna's faces were flush red from the cold air. There was a dash of red barely making an appearance on Snape's face, which betrayed the fact that he was indeed alive. Percy stepped back, opening the door wider, and the three visitors spilled into the front room.

"When are the others due to arrive?" Neville spoke with a slightly lighter tone, though he still had his eyes and wand focused on Snape.

"Any moment now, actually," Percy said, glancing once more at his watch. He lowered his voice, "The rest of my family is here this time as well."

Luna squealed with delight, "They made it?" She rushed into the room, and Neville smiled a bit at the sound of Molly laughing and crying loudly.

Percy, Neville, and Snape followed Luna into the sitting room. Luna's blonde hair stuck out like a sore thumb amid the sea of red hair. She looked right at home, but Neville could tell that the Weasley's were a bit nervous. Their smiles were weak, and they shifted around quite a lot. They stopped shifting, and their smiles disappeared when they turned to see Snape standing in their house.

"Severus Snape," Molly said with venom in her voice. "You are not welcome in my house." She turned to Neville, jabbing him with her finger, "How could you bring him to the Burrow."

"I think we should hear him out," Luna said weakly from somewhere behind Molly.

"He's a traitor," Molly said in little more than a whisper.

"Yeah, and a dead one at that," George said with a strange look on his face.

"He's not dead, and he never was," Neville said pointedly.

Arthur saw the look on George's face, and went over to comfort him. He understood that George believed Snape to be proof that he could see Fred again; that for an instant, Fred might be brought back to life.

"It can't be done," Arthur whispered so only George could hear. Then he spoke to Snape, "How did you do it? How did you survive Nagini?"

"Might I have some food?" Snape said, eyeing the food in the kitchen, not yet cleaned up by the family.

"No." Molly said with no hesitation.

"Molly, the man must be starving. Let him eat." Arthur said quietly.

"Mum, nobody has been as paranoid as dad since that night," Percy interjected. "If he trusts Snape in this unexpected meeting, perhaps we all could."

Molly argued with herself in her head for a moment. The Weasley in her won, and she moved toward the kitchen. "Oh very well," She said politely enough, "take a seat."

Snape sat down in Ron's seat without so much as a "thank you" and waited patiently to be served. Neville followed him, and sat to his right, still not having taken his eyes off the man. He had put his wand away, however, at Percy's mention of Arthur's paranoia, not wanting to raise the poor man's blood pressure. The rest of the Weasley's took their seats, and waited impatiently for Snape to begin talking. Molly walked over, and plopped a plate of food in front of Snape, who then began tearing at the food like a starving wolf. He began speaking before he swallowed. It was gross, but at least he didn't make them wait longer.

"That fool Voldemort thought he could kill me with a snake," he spat out food as he spoke.

"Not just any snake," Neville said with a bit of pride.

"Nagini was just a snake," Snape said with a mouthful of food. "A weak one at that. She shared a soul with Voldemort, didn't she?" He saw as Neville looked a bit dejected. "I heard about your little defeat. Killing that snake was important, and I'm glad you did it, but it wasn't as hard as you wish to believe. Just a snake, Longbottom."

It was an odd thing to see a man sneer as he ate, but Snape did so swimmingly. "I taught first years how to cure a poisoned victim for years." He pointed at a picture of Ron on the nearby wall, "Potter cured your boy in their sixth year with a bezoar. You think I walk around without at least three? I was honestly wondering if Voldemort meant for me to live, though I can't imagine why."

"Why would he want you to die?" Arthur interrupted.

Snape stopped eating momentarily, and looked directly into Arthur's eyes. "You think you were the only ones who knew I was a double agent? As soon as I told Voldemort I would kill Harry, he knew that I wanted to spare the boy."

"You wanted Harry to live?" Ginny said, unwilling to believe it.

Snape eyed her, and then let his eyes drop. He took a moment to himself before saying quietly, "That will remain between Dumbledore and myself, if you don't mind."

They all sat around for what seemed like an eternity. Snape had mentioned Harry, Ron, and Dumbledore in the span of two minutes, and the Weasley's, Luna and Neville were all a bit shaken by it. It would seem that Snape was truly a member of the Order. Those at the table were ready to welcome him cautiously, but not trust him completely just yet. They weren't quite sure how the others would take his arrival. Snape finished eating, and let his fork clank to the plate. They all looked toward him.

"Tell me," he inquired as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, "how did Harry die?"


	6. Chapter 6 - Dine and Dash

The question stung like a slap to the face. It was over in an instant, but hung around like the smell of smoke in the nose two days after a camping trip. It was a sour topic to think about, even after six months of trying their best not to think about it. The thought of Harry, Ron and Hermione's deaths left them all feeling bitter and ashamed.

The had felt entirely helpless in that moment. There they all were, a gathering of good Wizards, seemingly nearing victory, all with incredible magical strength and will. The good guys defending their keep, and doing it well. Then in a fraction of a second, their worlds came crashing down around them.

They remembered Hagrid carrying Harry's limp body into the courtyard, and they would forever hear McGonagall's cry echo in their memories. They would smile as they recalled Harry's trickery, and marveled at how Voldemort could have been so stupid as to not realize Harry wasn't actually dead. His rebirth should have sparked a new energy among the defenders, and the battle to follow would have been vigorous and chaotic. Voldemort, however, proved to be too quick.

Their cheers fell flat, and the air dispersed their voices into nothingness as the curse leapt from Voldemort's wand the very moment Harry's feet touched the ground. As they all stood mortified and helpless, staring at their hero's lifeless body on the ground, Voldemort turned his wand on Ron and Hermione, felling them each in turn.

They all felt cheated, and that the Golden Trio was cheated. Their deaths should have been in the heat of battle. They should have died defending themselves with fervor, and not just standing there helpless. They had gone through so much, risked so much, and all for something so inane as what they witnessed? It was unfair, and shameful. As if to add salt to the wound, Voldemort then turned and fled. They just watched him go, unable even to cry out.

They told this tale to Snape, hating themselves the whole time. He sat there and listened, not saying a word, not interjecting any questions or thoughts. His face remained stony without the faintest trace of a frown or a smile. When they finished, he stood and walked around the table, resting his hand on each of their shoulders for a moment as he passed. When he reached his empty chair once more, he faced them and shook his head slowly.

"Those three children risked so much in their lives." He spoke quietly, but his chest welled with pride as he did so. "In their first year, they defied their professors when we refused to acknowledge that they were right. They went into the bowels of the school, and overcame enormous obstacles to defeat a very powerful wizard's attempt at rebirth."

Those who he was addressing straightened up a bit in their chairs.

"Harry destroyed a Basilisk and, quite unknowingly, one of Voldemort's horcruxes in his second year, again accessing a secret area of the school. After that, with Sirius Black on the loose, the three of them survived, and I'm fairly certain rescued an innocent man from an undeserved fate." Snape continued, with his voice growing ever stronger throughout. Those around the table began to feel a emboldened as Snape recounted these deeds.

Snape walked toward the fireplace as he resumed, "Harry was not yet old enough for his O.W.L.s when he traversed the dangers of the Tri-Wizard tournament, and survived a duel with Lord Voldemort. As if that wasn't enough, the next year he taught an underground dark arts defense class, and together, they took on the Department of Mysteries and several of Voldemort's closest followers."

Snape reached into the bucket of Floo Powder on the mantle, and grabbed a handful. Luna and Neville stood, slowly approaching Snape, ever cautious of his intentions. His speech was showing his loyalty to the Order, but his history left them all with reason to doubt him. They moved slowly so they didn't attract his attention.

"They travelled the continent, and found his remaining Horcruxes, destroying them despite their naivety," he continued. "You feel as though they did all this for nothing, and that their efforts were in vain. Remember all they did for the Order. Remember all they did without Voldemort being any the wiser."

He turned suddenly to face them, catching Luna and Neville off guard, and startling them enough to halt their advance.

"Remember this as well." He said, locking eyes with each of them as they continued. "Voldemort had the guts to face his enemies before killing them. The Golden Trio got what they deserved."

He thrust the Floo Powder into the fireplace and backed into the flames.

"Thank you for the meal, Molly." He said in his most venomous drawl. "Number 12." He said loudly, and was gone.

The Weasleys stood at the table in utter shock at what had just unfolded.

George spoke first. "Well, at least he thanked you for the meal, mum."

Molly gave a weak smile, "And at least we know where he went, though I doubt they kept it open long enough for us to follow."

Neville held up his hand, "And we have his wand."

Arthur replied, "We also know who he's been with for the last six months. Voldemort kept him alive on purpose, and they know how weak we are."

Percy answered, "On the contrary, father, they don't know how strong we are."

"Perhaps," Arthur replied weakly, looking toward the fireplace.

"Well, one thing's for certain," Percy said grinning slightly toward George, "He won't be expecting Kreacher."


	7. Chapter 7 - Social Gatherings

As if on cue the front door flung open and Hagrid squeezed through the door. Kingsley, McGonagall, Aberforth, and Flitwick were right behind him. As they all hugged and greeted each other, Seamus and Dean came in through the kitchen door. Ten minutes later, they were all gathered around the sitting room, and Neville brought them up to speed on Snape's surprise visit.

"How do you think he survived?" Kingsley asked while sticking his head into the fireplace as though Snape was hiding halfway up the chimney.

"I think it's fairly obvious that Voldemort let him live," said Flitwick, who was lying down on the couch with his eyes closed.

"I don' know," Hagrid said gruffly from his spot on three kitchen chairs he'd pushed together, which didn't seem willing to hold his weight. "I reckon he's runnin' back ter Voldemort, countin' on being let back in ter the Death Eaters."

"He'll be met with a lot of angry bad guys," Arthur spoke knowingly. "Shame he trusts Voldemort and them more than us."

"Perhaps it isn't a matter of trust, but of beliefs. Maybe Snape just believes in their cause over ours," Luna said.

The whole demeanor of the new Order was far different from what the Weasleys remembered. In the old days, everyone was on edge, always planning the next move, and always eager for the next victory. This new group was far more laid back and contemplative.

"Goodness me, is this how you have been running things?" Molly said while shoving Flitwick's feet off of her couch. "Just lazing around making general assumptions and doing nothing?"

"The meeting's only started, Molly," Flitwick said, feeling ashamed nonetheless.

"You've been away for a while, and I'm afraid this isn't the best first impression," Luna said calmly, "but we are dealing with something a bit unprecedented for us or anyone really."

"Yeah," Neville interjected, looking a bit sheepish, "It's not every day one has to deal with a person coming back from the dead."

"Alright, alright," Molly replied with her hands in the air in defeat. "I'm just a bit nervous. It's been a while since we've seen each other or this house."

"Quite understandable, dear," Arthur said reassuringly.

He went to pat Molly on the back, but his attention was on the far corner of the room. He thought he saw someone familiar, but nobody was there. As he stared into the corner, however, everyone else in the room looked on with intrigue as Arthur proceeded to pat the air two feet from his wife's back. Ginny casually approached her father and put her arm around his shoulders. She grinned sheepishly at the others as if to say, "Sorry about him," and led him to the couch.

Percy broke the awkward silence by addressing the room. "Do you suppose we should get started?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Percy," Neville said, moving seamlessly into a state of complete professionalism. He walked over to the counter and produced a binder from a satchel he had brought from his house. He opened the binder, and consulted the twentieth or thirtieth page inside.

"Now then," he said after clearing his throat, "We covered quite a bit last time. Aberforth brought in a lovely spread."

George interrupted with a snort. "Aberforth brought food? And it was lovely?"

"Well, not really," Seamus said with a glance toward Aberforth, "but bad food is better than no food."

"Maybe I just won't cook next time, then." Aberforth said, slightly perturbed. "Maybe Hagrid can bring the food next time."

"NO!" Everyone, including Hagrid, shouted together.

"I think the minutes can be skipped today, Neville," Dean said, clapping a hand on Neville's back. "You know, now that something interesting has actually happened."

"I suppose," Neville replied, looking at the fireplace once more. "What do we do now?"

They all sat around looking at each other awkwardly. The Weasleys got the feeling that the Order of the Phoenix had been reduced to social gatherings since Voldemort's last victory. In the past, it had always been Dumbledore leading the meetings. Snape always had news to bring, and therefore they always had something to discuss. When Snape or Dumbledore had nothing to contribute, it was the eagerness of Sirius or Remus that got the meetings started. When the Order first formed, James and Lily always organized the meetings. The gathering currently at the Burrow were missing all of those people, and they were lost.

"What have you all been talking about at these meetings?" Molly inquired, slightly exasperated.

"Honestly, Mrs. Weasley," Luna spoke as kindly as she could, "We've spent most of our time wondering what happened to you and your family."

Molly flushed. "You were worried about us?"

"Well, o' course we were worried about yeh, Molly!" Hagrid roared, perhaps too loudly. "What do yeh expect? Yeh lost two of yer kids! Voldemort beat us again. Yeh lost Harry! Then yeh disappeared! Just left us here ter rot!"

"Hagrid!" Minerva cried out, "Don't yell at her."

"Why not!" Hagrid said, shaking his head, holding his hands out.

"Well, for starters, all the reasons you just mentioned." Minerva retorted.

"They've been through a lot, Rubeus," Kingsley spoke softly, resting a hand on Hagrid's shoulder. "Let's not pour guilt on top of the poor woman." Kingsley smiled warmly at Molly.

Silence ensued momentarily, but didn't last long as Kingsley spoke once more. "Well, I hate to break up this long awaited reunion, but a man we thought was dead, and know to be a Death Eater has just been at the location of an Order meeting." He headed for the front door, and spoke over his shoulder, "And has just run off to tell our enemy."

They all called out their good-byes as the minister left the meeting to alert the Aurors and anyone else who might be able to help.

"I hope you'll pardon me for interrupting," a raspy voice emanated from the fireplace hearth, "But what shall I do with this half-blood traitor?"

Everyone turned toward the voice, and saw an interesting sight. Snape was bent at an angle toward Kreacher, who had Snape's ear pinched firmly between his thumb and index finger. Kreacher looked positively disgusted to be touching Snape. Snape appeared prepared to strangle Kreacher as soon as the house elf let go. The rest of the people in the room, however, couldn't help but break into spontaneous laughter at Snape's predicament, and their own luck.

"Luna, you have a fairly steady corporeal Patronus, don't you?" Neville asked without taking his eyes off of Snape and Kreacher.

"I do." Luna replied, taking out her wand.

"You want to dispatch a message to Kingsley?"


End file.
